


Realization

by alynwa



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E.
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-29
Updated: 2014-09-02
Packaged: 2018-02-15 07:15:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2220282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alynwa/pseuds/alynwa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something Illya observes makes him realize some things about his relationship with April.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Illya was in a very good mood, though externally, he looked the same as usual. If Napoleon had been with him as he handed in his badge before leaving Headquarters, he would have seen the fleeting smile the blond gave Glenna and known the Russian was a happy man. She saw it, but figured it must be gas because he never smiles her way.

One of the reasons he was happy was Napoleon himself. Their mission had been successful, but the price of success was almost the CEA’s life. He had seduced the information Waverly wanted out of Gwendolyn von Siebenhoven with promises of love and marriage and when she discovered none of it was true and that he was a spy sent to get her formula for a new bomb, she had stabbed him in a fit of pique and fury.

Napoleon had been wearing a wire and Illya had begun running to his partner’s hotel room when he heard the conversation between his partner and the woman starting to go south. He had burst in just as she was raising the knife to stab the prone man again. In one swift motion, he had drawn his weapon and fired a sleep dart into her neck before grabbing the blade from her.

_It had been touch and go for him; she had managed to knick an artery. If I had been any later, he would have bled out. It was very fortunate that the ambulance I called got there so quickly and the surgeon at Columbia Presbyterian was so skilled. Two days there before being transferred to UNCLE Medical. Today was the first day he complained about being there, so I know he is feeling better. Such a weight off my shoulders!_

Napoleon’s injury aside, they had actually concluded the mission ahead of schedule and now that he had completed the mission report and spent time with his partner, he was now unexpectedly free on a Friday evening. He had decided to ask April to join him for dinner. _Charlie Mingus is playing a late set at The Village Vanguard; perhaps we will go there, too._

He exited the subway and was walking down the block to April’s building when he saw her emerge in the company of a man he had never seen before. He slowed his pace and stepped behind a group of passersby just as she checked the street for danger. Satisfied, she placed her arm through the arm of the man and they began to walk in the opposite direction from the Russian.

He felt like he had been punched in the stomach. He couldn’t help it, he began to follow at a discreet distance so he could observe their behavior. He could see by their body language that they were enjoying each other’s company immensely. When he could see their profiles, both were smiling and laughing. A few times April leaned into him and gave an affectionate shove. They walked for three blocks and entered a restaurant he and April had discovered together. He stood a block away and after waiting for ten minutes, he turned around and headed back toward the subway. _New plan,_ he thought. _I will stop at the liquor store, buy two bottles of vodka and then go home._


	2. Chapter 2

Napoleon was lying in Medical Saturday morning trying to pretend he was somewhere, anywhere else. He had been poked and prodded every three hours for four days now and was more than a little sick of it. _I can’t wait to sleep in my own bed!,_ he thought for the hundredth time. He glanced at the wall clock. _8:30; Illya should be here soon._

Fifteen minutes later, his partner came into the room carrying a Styrofoam cup of coffee. “Mother of _God,_ Illya! You look like shit on a shingle! What happened to you?”

The Russian adjusted his sunglasses as he plopped down into the chair next to the bed. “Please, Napoleon, do not shout. I assure you, I can hear you.”

“How much vodka did you _drink_ last night? And why?”

Illya sipped his coffee slowly. “Almost two bottles. And because April is seeing another man.”

Napoleon pushed the button that raised him into a sitting position. “I don’t believe it! I mean, about April. I totally believe the two bottles of vodka. How do you know she’s seeing someone else?”

The Russian shifted in his seat. “I saw them together. Last night leaving her building. They looked…very happy together.”

Napoleon saw Illya clamp down on his emotions. Anyone else would have missed it, but he saw. It hurt him to see his partner suffer in this way. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, the door to his room swung open and April entered.

“Hello, Napoleon Darling! I heard it through the grapevine that you were in Medical. I came to see how you’re feeling. And, Illya, Sweetheart; you should have called me!”

“April.”

If she heard the coolness in his voice, she ignored it. “I wish I had known you were in town! Mark and I returned yesterday and I was able to see my favorite cousin Dash who was here on a long layover between flights. I would have loved for you to meet him.”

Illya removed his shades and turned surprised eyes on her. “Your…cousin?”

“Yes! Dash Dancer. Dashiell, actually. His parents were huge fans of Dashiell Hammett, the author. Anyway, he was in town for about ten hours yesterday. We had a blast! I took him to that restaurant that you and I went to, Illya. He loved it.” Just then, her communicator began to chirp. “Dancer. Hey, Mark. Alright, I’m on my way.” She disassembled her device and put it back in her purse. “I have to run; Waverly wants to see me and Mark. We’ll be heading back out of town for a few days. Goodbye, Darling,” she said to Napoleon as she kissed his cheek. “Feel better.” She turned to Illya and kissed him softly on the mouth. “I will definitely speak to _you_ as soon as I can.” She turned and headed out of the room.

After a few seconds, Napoleon said, “See? You were worried for nothing; the man you saw is her cousin. You’re the only man she’s interested in seeing.” He watched as his partner looked around the room and then at the floor as he continued to sip his coffee. He frowned. “That’s good to know, isn’t it? Illya? What are you thinking?”

The blond sighed heavily and rubbed his forehead. “Do you not see, Napoleon? I saw her with another man and leapt to the wrong conclusion. I acted like a hurt, jealous fool yesterday. I followed them. I _followed_ them!” He stood and began to pace slowly. “I cannot believe I did that! This cannot continue; my feelings for April have become way too strong. If she had not come in here to visit you, I would have continued to act like a lovesick puppy. As much as I care for her, I have to scale back on my feelings. I have no choice.”

Napoleon shook his head. “You make it sound like you can just flip a switch and poof! Your feelings for her will be changed. I’ll support whatever you decide to do, Partner, but let me say something here. You and I are one hundred and eighty degrees apart when it comes to love and romance. I don’t do commitment. The only woman I’ve dated more than three times is Angelique and there’s certainly no love there. My thought is the best way to get over a woman is to get on top of another one as soon as possible. That’s not you. You wouldn’t see _anyone_ if you stopped seeing her. You would be punishing yourself and April for no good reason.”

“’No good reason’? It is dangerous for people in our profession to feel this strongly about anyone. It creates a weakness that can be exploited.”

Napoleon leaned his head back and sighed. He was getting stronger, but he was feeling tired. _This stubborn Russian is making me tired!_ He pushed the button to lower the bed. “I’m going to take a nap. Let me ask you a question: Do you love me, Illya?”

“You know I do.”

“I _do_ know. Despite how dangerous it is, you love me. You couldn’t help yourself!” He laughed to lighten the mood. “I also know you didn’t mean to fall in love with April, but you did. Again, you couldn’t help yourself. Deal with it. Tell her how you feel and deal with it.”

Illya was suddenly feeling very hung over. “I am staying here until you fall asleep and then, I am going home. I will come back later with some real food for dinner.”

“Bless you, my son,” Napoleon grinned before yawning loudly and settling in for his nap. “I’ll see you later.” He smiled again as he felt Illya pat his leg and heard him sit back in the chair. A few minutes later, he was sound asleep.

Illya noticed his partner’s breathing deepen and sat a few moments longer to see if he might reawaken. He finally stood quietly and walked to the door. _I will think about what you have said._


	3. Chapter 3

Napoleon woke up a few hours later. As he expected, he was alone. A quick glance at the clock told him that Doctor Jameson would be appearing soon to check on him. _I’m going to demand that he let me recuperate at home. I can’t take anymore._

He raised himself into a seated position and poured some of the water in the container into the glass on the stand. It was a little cooler than room temperature and if felt really good going down his throat. His thirst quenched, he turned his thoughts back on his last conversation with his partner as he slowly eased himself to his feet and gingerly made his way to the bathroom.

 _If that crazy Russian decides to stop seeing April, it would hurt her briefly, but I’m convinced she would get over it faster and better than he would. She’s an outgoing, beautiful woman who’s constantly getting hit on by men wherever she goes. She would eventually start dating again. But Illya…_ He shrugged his shoulders, flushed the toilet, washed his hands and slowly made his way back to the bed. _He would shut down, I know he would._

His room door opened and the head of Medical, Dr. Jameson, entered. “Hello, Agent Solo. How are we feeling this afternoon?”

“I don’t know how _we_ are feeling, but _I_ just took myself to the bathroom and I think that means I’m well enough to go home.”

“We’ll see about that,” the doctor replied coolly as he picked up Napoleon’s chart from where it was hanging on the end of the bed. “Hmmm, no temp for the last thirty – six hours, appetite seems good, stitches holding nicely…”

“Come _on,_ Doc!” Napoleon exclaimed impatiently, “We both know I’m well enough to go home. Would you release me already so I can go?”

“Fine. As usual, my conditions are that your partner agrees to stay with you to make sure you don’t reinjure yourself, you take your meds…” He held up his hand. “I already know you won’t take your pain pills as prescribed, but you better take your antibiotics. This wound was serious, Solo, and an infection can set in if you don’t. No showers, sponge baths only. You’re home for at least a week; come back next Saturday and _if_ I’m satisfied with your healing progress, I’ll clear you for desk duty. You’re out of the field for at least the next two weeks. Understood?”

The CEA gave the man a “thumbs up” sign. “Completely. And I won’t drink more than that two scotches a day. Scout’s honor.”

Doctor Jameson just shook his head. “I’ll apprise Mr. Waverly of your discharge. I’ll leave you to get dressed then. Pick up your scrips at the Pharmacy on your way out.”

“Thanks, Doc,” Napoleon responded as he watch him leave. _Finally!_ He reached for his communicator and assembled it. “Open Channel K.”

“Yes, Napoleon?”

“Good news, Partner Mine; I’m sprung from this joint as soon as you come get me. Jameson wants you to stay with me, probably at least ‘til next Saturday.”

“Of course. I will call him to confirm. I am going to go out now, pick up some dinner and then I’ll be on my way to HQ. Any preferences?”

“As much as I would love steak and potatoes, I think I better take it easy. Can you pick up some food from Svetlana’s?* I think I would like some of her borscht.”

A soft chuckle emanated from the communicator. “I will make a proper comrade of you yet, moy droog. Yes, I will bring borscht. See you in a bit.” A click let him know the Russian had ended the transmission.

As he put his device down and got up to get his clothing out of the closet he thought, _You and I will be having a conversation about you and April tonight, Chum._

Hours later, Napoleon and Illya were relaxing in the CEA’s living room. Illya had appeared in his Medical room almost three hours after he had called him carrying two large shopping bags. After they had gotten Napoleon’s meds, they had had a Section III drive them to Napoleon’s building. Once they had entered the kitchen, Napoleon had looked on in amazement as the Russian pulled containers of borscht, Kasha, pirozhki filled with meat and potatoes out of one bag and chicken soup, rolls, a couple of roast beef sandwiches and sodas out of the other.

“Good grief, Illya! Why so much food?” he had asked at the time.

“Svetlana was so upset to hear you were under the weather that she insisted that I bring all these extras for you. The kasha is for breakfast and the other food is for anytime.”

They had attacked the food and eaten until they were stuffed though Napoleon was full long before Illya was. They each had a drink in their hand; scotch for the brunet and ice cold vodka from the freezer for the blond.

“So,” Napoleon said after they had sat in silence for about fifteen minutes, “Did you think about what I said to you earlier today?”

“That is _all_ I have thought about, Napoleon.”

He waited to hear what else Illya had to say, but when no other words were forthcoming he inquired, “So? Have you reached any decisions?”

The Russian sipped his drink and then swirled the liquid around in the glass. “I…do not wish to end my relationship with April. I _should,_ I really should, for the reason I told you earlier, but I have realized something: Without April, I will be lonely again in a way I have not been since we began seeing each other. Before she and I became… _close,_ I was lonelier than I cared to admit. I do not want to go back there, I cannot go back there.” He downed the remainder of the liquid in his glass and refill it.

“Good for you, Tovarisch. So you’re going to tell her you love her?”

“Nyet. She is a Section II like we are; if I were to declare my feelings for her, she would feel pressured to either reciprocate or admit she does not feel the same way. Either way, she would put herself in the position I find myself: Wondering whether or not to continue seeing me. Her decision…might not be the same as mine.”

Napoleon nodded his understanding as he poured himself a glass of water. “Promised Jameson,” he said by way of explanation as he raised the glass to his lips. “That’s probably for the best, Illya. I hadn’t even thought about what telling her would put _her_ through.”

“And, if truth be told, if actions speak louder than words, she may already know how I feel. You and I, we have been partners now for almost seven years and it is only in the last few years that I began to trust that I could tell you anything and you would keep my confidence and not use what I tell you to hurt me. I do not think April would betray me, but I do not completely _know_ it yet. As I told her once, she has gained the ability to hurt me.**”

“I know you already know this, but I will say it anyway: April, or anyone else for that matter, will never hear a word of what you just said from me.”

“Thank you, Napoleon. Having you as a confidante and sounding board means the world to me.”

“You’re welcome, Tovarisch, and on that note…” He slowly got up from his recliner. “It’s almost eleven and I’m exhausted. I’m going to bed.”

Illya watched him move slowly down the hall. “Do you want me to come tuck you in?” he called teasingly.

“I can manage. Goodnight, Partner.”

“Goodnight, moy brat.”

 

*Svetlana was born in Kiev and now resides in Brighton Beach. She owns Svetlana’s, which is Illya’s favorite restaurant. She treats Illya like a grandson. I’ve mentioned her restaurant in several stories and she figures prominently in Chapter II of my tale “Changing Minds.”

**ref. my tale “In My Heart.”

 


End file.
